Fool me thrice
by a02i02
Summary: When Derek Morgan gets critically injured, Spencer Reid gets a chance to reconnect with someone from his past: the beautiful and smart Dr. Eleanor Black. She's intelligent, driven and funny and the team instantly loves her, but her presence is almost painful to him. Why? And when she tries to reconnect with him, will he let himself be fooled again?
1. Chapter 1

**"There is nothing I would not do for those who are really my friends. I have no notion of loving people by halves, it is not my nature."-Jane Austen, Northanger Abbey**

"This one's local. Washington P.D. have asked us to consult on a series of family homicides," declared JJ wiping sweat from her brow, "Last Sunday, Joseph Setterfield, his wife Angie and their seven year old son Noel were all found dead in their home. The mother was found bludgeoned to death with a baseball bat, the son was found with his throat slashed and the father was found with a bullet wound in his right temple."

"Murder-suicide ?" proposed Rossi while scanning the pictures of the crime scenes carefully.

"That is what they originally thought. Until the next day Benjamin, Tracy and Philip Harris were all found dead in their apartment, exact same MO."

The pictures of the families flashed on the screen. Their bright eyes staring at them mockingly from the screen. That had always been the most difficult part, to look at pictures of the victims when they were happy and innocent and then remember that they were no longer alive. would never kiss her husband again or cuddle with her son on the couch. would never pick up his son from football practice or put his arm around his wife again.

"There's a distinctive pattern in victimology," pointed out Reid, "two white middle class families with a seven year old son; brunet husband, green-eyed wife, seven year old son," he stopped for a second focusing on a particular section of his file. "guys, I think they might be surrogates for the unsub's family."

"He murdered the second family only 24 hours after he murdered the first, that's not a long cooling off period." pointed out Morgan.

"You're right, that means that we have less than 20 hours to find whoever is responsible for this," affirmed Hotch. "Alright everybody let's go."

* * *

"You have reached the FBI's office of supreme genius ! How may I may I save your ass today ?" said Penelope Gracie leaning forward in her seat, her fingers at the ready over her keyboard.

"Hey baby girl, I need you to search for domestic abuse cases involving seven year old boys in D.C., go back 25 years alright ?"

"Oh honey," began Garcia, "that's not even a challenge. Let's see…" she trailed off, her fingers tapping manically on the keyboard in look for something that would help her team solve this case. "I have about 170 matches you're gonna need to be more specific sugar."

"Alright listen, the mother has green eyes, he probably nearly failed university, has a criminal record from his teenage years: vandalism, petty theft, and works a boring desk job like a secretary or an accountant does that help ?" inquired Morgan. Their time was running out, he'd already killed a third family much quicker than they had anticipated, Sebastian, Julie and George Stevenson had been found dead minutes after they'd delivered their profile to the local police force. It had bothered him, and he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if they'd been quicker, delivered their profile just a little bit earlier… but such thoughts were pointless. He sighed audibly.

"What's the matter my chocolate thunder ?"

"Nothing, just…I'm just…He got another family."

"Oh, I'm so sorry. But in other news I think I found your unsub. Robert Woodson was physically and emotionally abused by his drunk father John Woodson. His mother, Diane Woodson, seems to have been largely absent from his life, she never came with him to hospital visits, she neglected to have him vaccinated, didn't drop him off for school, nothing. In fact one of his teachers reported that he found the lack of maternal figure in Robert's life was severely affecting his attitude towards his fellow classmates. Anyway when he was seven, a neighbor filed a police complaint about the noise, when the police got there they found our charming beating the crap out of his son with a beer bottle. Afterwards he went on to study accounting but he nearly failed, scrapped by with a barely passing. "

"Please tell me you have an address." pleaded Morgan

"Oh sugar you have got to stop underestimating me like this. He lives in 2371 Cornell street. Go get him my beautiful chocolate Adonis" she purred at the last words voluntarily letting a flirty intonation to her voice.

He smirked. "Woman, have I told you how much I love you ?" he teased

"Only every day. Now go get him tiger !"

"Guys ! Garcia found the unsub !"

And that was the last thing she heard before the communication ended. She sighed, this was the tough part. Sitting here, worrying, constantly wondering wether her babies were going to make it out of here alive. She shook her head to get rid of the horrifying vision of her team members' eyes wide and unblinking, their faces covered in blood. Whenever one of them called her, she always felt dread and an odd sinking sensation at the bottom of her stomach. They'd always come back to her safely, though sometimes injured, but she was thankful all the same. Still this time, after hanging up withMorgan, she felt the odd feeling in her stomach grow and every pore of her being radiated anxiety. "Please, please, please, please let the be okay." she muttered to herself her hands fidgeting with the many gadgets that were on her desk while her foot tapped constantly against the floor. "Please be okay."

* * *

The phone rang once before a frantic Penelope Garcia answered the phone.

"Hello ? Prentiss is that you ?"

"Hey Penelope." Her voice sounded hoarse from screaming, and she felt too exhausted to talk really, but this had to be done. There was no way to break the news gently. Maybe she should use the bandaid approach ?

" Emily, what's up ? What's wrong ? Is somebody hurt ?" The long silence following her question of told her all she needed to know. She gasped and felt her eyes prickle with unshed tears as her mind started to go through every single possible scenario that could have happened, and even those that couldn't have happened.

"Is it Reid ? Is it JJ? Is it-" she was interrupted by Emily who decided to use the band-aid method after all. "It's Morgan, he was shot pretty bad. In the head." she sighted as she heard her friend sob helplessly in the phone. "Garcia I'm sorry. But he's alive. He's being transported to the hospital right now." When she had recovered from her shock she took a few deep breaths and tried to stop imagining her chocolate Adonis with a bullet through his head. "Text me the name of the hospital. I'm coming." Her tone left no place for questions. She was coming, and that was final. "Of course." And that was that, three minutes later a tear-stricken Penelope was making her way to D.C. Praying like hell that he would survive this. He had too.

 **"A friend is someone who knows all about you and still loves you."** **\- Elbert Hubbard**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story. I'm sorry if this chapter was a** **little slow. But never fear ! You will meet Spencer's "love interest" in the next chapter. Please review and tell me your thoughts about the story.**


	2. Chapter 2

**"Being deeply loved by someone gives you strength, while loving someone deeply gives you courage."** **\- Lao Tzu**

Spencer Reid hated hospital rooms. They always reminded him of death. Perhaps because his mother had often been admitted to the ER after hurting herself during one of her "episodes". He had waited in many hospital rooms, desperate for a word, a gesture, anything at all that would indicate to him that his mother was okay. But he never got one, at least, not until she had made it out of the operation room. Perhaps that was why he was sitting there so calmly, the statistics about head gun shot wounds survival rates rushing around his mind. It was hard to keep being positive when he knew that only 5% of hear gun shot wound victims ended up surviving and only 3% of those actually managed to live their lives like they normally did. Most ended up suffering from paralysis, speech impediment or personality changes depending on which area of the brain was hit. He tried to distract himself by observing the different members of his team.

Rossi was sitting on the edge she of his chair, his hands joined together as though in prayer, and eyes stubbornly fixing an invisible point on the floor. Hotch on the other hand was giving his back to the room stubbornly avoiding anyone's gaze and tapping his fingers rhythmically on the window ledge. His eyes seemed glazed, as though he was not taking in a single detail from the scenery before him. His poker face was on and it was impossible for anyone to guess what he was feeling. Emily was making what must have been her eighteenth cup of coffee this hour alone, and kept pacing trough the room, unable to sit still. That, thought Spencer, was so purely Emily, She was never the sitting around type of person, she was a woman of action, when a person she cared about was in danger she would immediately take the necessary steps to save their lives; even if it meant losing her own. All this sitting and waiting was driving her crazy. JJ was sitting next to Garcia, her arm slung around the other woman's shoulders. Every so often she would get up and speak with one of the doctors who came every hour or so to give them an update. But the real mess of the group had been Garcia. She had sat there motionless on her chair, trying-and failing- to finish the bright blue hat she was knitting for Henry. Her usually immaculate make up was smudged and there were dried tear stains all over her cheeks. Every so often, she would try and make a positive remark such as "He's going to make it." or "I know he's not going to die." her voice almost begging them to agree with her.

Finally, after what had seemed like an eternity of waiting, a young doctor came towards them. Spencer tried to decipher his facial expression, but he was putting on a full poker face. "Derek Morgan ?" he asked looking up from his chart. They all rose at once to face him. The silence was so thick you could have cut it with a knife, the only sounds that could be heard were the scratches that their chairs made as they got up. "Well, I am pleased to inform you that the surgery went better than expected. Agent Morgan has been moved to room 317 in the ICU. If you will go there one of the surgeons who operated on Agent Morgan- -will be able to apprise you more fully about his condition."

No sooner had the words left his mouth, than he was greeted by the sight of a frantic group of FBI agents racing for the ICU. Hotch stayed to exchange a few words with the doctor before making his way to Morgan's room walking at a slightly quicker pace than necessary.

When he arrived in the room, he found his colleagues had already made themselves comfortable. Garcia was fussing around the room; hanging gadgets and ornaments all throughout the barren hospital room and was being helped by a clumsy JJ who tried to balance Garcia's odd contraptions on Morgan's bedside. Reid was sitting at Morgan's bedside monitoring his vitals, watching the steady monitor that indicated Morgan's heartbeat. Rossi was seated on the armchair, his eyes not leaving Morgan's still form, watching the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Prentiss, on the other hand, was trying to make a bed out of the couch, her intent clear: she was staying here thee would be no discussion about it. Even if it meant defying a direct order: she would not budge.

He sighed and moved himself towards the nearest armchair. No sooner had he sat down than the door opened to reveal a blonde doctor in her thirties. She raised her head and shot a smile at the room, her sea blue eyes twinkling. "Hello." she started, "I am Dr. Eleanor Black. I'm one of the surgeons who operated on Agent Morgan." she mumbled the last part of her sentence while reading over the chart in her hands. "Now I am pleased to say that-", she paused as her eyes scanned the face of the youngest team member. Her eyes widened and her mind seemed to go into shock as she dropped all of her charts on the floor.

"Spence !"

"Ella !"

 **"If I had a flower for every time I thought of you...I could walk through my garden forever." - Alfred Tennyson**

* * *

 **A/N: Soooo...Spencer and Ella finally meet ! I'm sorry if this chapter seemed short but I promise the next chapter is much longer. Thanks to all those who left reviews !**

 **DISCLAMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my OC and my plot.**

 **Please keep reviewing and once again thank you for reading my story !**


	3. Chapter 3

**"You don't love someone because they're perfect, you love them in spite of the fact that they're not." - Jodi Picoult, My Sister's Keeper**

Spencer Reid was trying - and failing - to put on his trademark poker face. It was a look he had pulled thousands of times on unsubs and sometimes even on his own team when he wanted to avoid worrying them about his health. But this time he was failing miserably at maintaining any semblance of composure. His eyes had grown the size of saucers, his body had gone slack, his face was as red as Garcia's trademark lipstick, and his I.Q. seemed to have been slashed to 60. He looked, simply put like a goldfish out of the water.

The young doctor wasn't fairing much better. She closed her eyes, backed away slowly…and hit her head on the closed door. She blinked a few times, and after a few moments in which she pinched herself, attempted to convince herself that she was dreaming and had a near panic attack, she took several deep breaths, picked up her charts from the floor and forced her face into a polite smile.

It was Spencer who broke the silence first.

"What are you doing here ?", he still appeared to be completely out of it and he was now trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. "I work here." she replied shortly, "What are _you_ doing here ?" she asked instead. "My friend got shot." he stuttered. "Oh."

An unspoken moment seemed to pass between the two of them where nobody said anything. Before Eleanor broke the silence. "So…" she trailed off a nervous giggle bursting through her mouth, "You still work for the FBI ?" she inquired one of her brows raised quizzically. "Yeah. I see you're a surgeon now." he answered. "Yeah, I'm a neuro resident."

"You did it." he nearly hissed through his clenched jaw. The conversation had obviously shifted away from the subject of their careers and seemed to be treading on a sensitive topic. She noticed and her eyes darkened, she pressed her lips together so hard they nearly formed one thin line and her knuckles became white as she held her charts in a vice like grip. "I did."

" I hope you're happy." he said. His tone reflecting an obvious desire of the contrary. " I _am_ happy. Extremely. Excessively. Excruciatingly. Happy." she managed to say through her tightly grit teeth. " _Good._ " And they stood there in silence, their eyes nearly burning holes through each other's foreheads.

The rest of the team had watched the exchange with extreme interest. The two parties seemingly having forgotten that there were other persons present in the room. They observed silently, profiling them out of pure instinct. Garcia had nearly forgotten that here best friend was lying comatose in a hospital bed and was now fully invested in watching the couple interact. " _Girlfriend ? Cousin ? Fiancée ? Wife ? College Friend ?"_ Such were the thoughts that surrounded Garcia's mind regarding the mysterious woman. She intended to subject Spencer to a thorough questioning later with the full intent of wriggling out the identity of Pretty Boy's mystery woman.

They suddenly seemed to remember that there were other persons present in the room. She cleared her throat and shook her head a few times: "I…I…Go! Yes…I …I have to…I have a…A thing ! Yeah ! I have a thing to do so… um…yeah…I should…yeah." she stammered faintly before bolting out of the door like a deer in headlights.

For a few seconds, nobody spoke. They silence in the room was almost deafening, like the calm before a storm. Spencer started a mental countdown. _3…2…1…_ The explosion of questions hit him almost at once. "Who is she ?", "Is she your girlfriend ?", "Did you two use to date ?", "Ooh…Lover Boy got some !", "Why did she run like that ? What's going on ?". It was nearly impossible for him to get a word in edgewise, so he sat quietly and waited patiently for them to finish.

"All right Romeo ! Spill the beans ! You've been holding out on us. Dating this gorgeous smart blonde doctor right under our noses without telling any of us about it ! How could you ? Come on ! Spill or I shall die in agony. And then not only will I be dead and you would have rid the FBI of its most talented Tech Analyst, you would have also let me die while not knowing all about your secret girlfriend and _that_ my furry little friend is unacceptable so you better spill. Right. This. Instant." Garcia managed to say all of this in one very quick breath. Hands on her hips, foot tapping on the floor: she meant business.

"Um…well…there's no need really Eleanor and I broke up nearly four years ago. It's not that important." he mumbled. Naively, he hoped that would be enough to placate the stubborn technical analyst and the rest of his nosy team for the team being. Unfortunately for him he was wrong. " Uh-huh. Sorry. Pretty Boy. Not going to cut it. Come on. Tell me something. Anything."

"Yeah. Like how you two met." asked Rossi not even trying to hid his amusement.

* * *

 _An aggravated 18-year-old Spencer Reid was staring at his equation sheet as though it had personally wronged him. He sighed audibly, he had been working on it for three days in a row now and had been pulling all-nighter after all-nighter. The caffeine wasn't working which didn't stop him from pouring his twenty-seventh cup of coffee. Suddenly, he was distracted by a voice behind him: "That's not right."_

 _He turned around and thought he must be dreaming. The person who was speaking to him was: a) female b) extremely pretty and c) correcting his equations. He blinked a few times to make sure this wasn't a hallucination made up by his sleep deprived caffeine intoxicated brain. When he didn't answer she proceeded: "Your equations. You're supposed to divide those two numbers first_ _ **then**_ _multiply them by the factor. See ?" she grabbed one of his pencils and began to write a series of numbers on his page which his brain only half registered. He noted, however, that her handwriting was lovely. Beautiful girls didn't just approach Spencer, yet here was one who was both beautiful and good at math: an extremely attractive combination in Spencer's mind._

" _Um…you're majoring in math?" As soon as the question left his mouth he felt his face redden. That's all he could say ? "And you wonder why you can't get a date", he thought. She let out a laugh and put her hand on his shoulder causing his face to turn even redder. "No! I don't even study here. I'm just here to visit a friend." she chuckled, he was cute she thought. "And to attend a seminar. But don't tell my friend." she admitted. "Oh. So…um…where do you study then ?" he hadn't been able to deduce that himself and she wasn't wearing a college hoodie. "Harvard. Med school." she said with a hint of pride in her voice. She looked, Spencer thought, like someone who had fought tooth and nail to get where she was. "Do you know what you want to specialize in ?" he asked. Although Spencer was probably the least people friendly person, he was a skilled people reader. He didn't know what type of career he could make out of it but it seemed like a useful skill to have. And she seemed, after all, the type who knew exactly what she wanted and took it. "I'm not really sure yet." she answered with a sheepish smile, "but I do know I want to become a surgeon."_

" _Wow! You know only 20% of surgeons are female." , "19%", she corrected._

 _Suddenly her phone rang obnoxiously loud causing the librarian who had been ignoring them until now to glare their way and whispered "Shhh!"._

" _I have to go. That's my friend." she informed him gesturing with her chin towards her phone. "But, I hope I'll see you around Spencer ?". He looked up at her puzzled. "How-?" he started. She gave him a cheeky smile. "It's on your paper Spencer Reid." she teased him. "I'm Eleanor by the way. Eleanor Black."_

* * *

"Spencer ? Spencer !" screamed Emily while waving her hand repeatedly in front of his face.

"Yeah ! Sorry, I…I got distracted." he said with a small sad smile. "Why ? Remembering all the _beautiful moments_ between the two of you ?" His answer - or rather his non-answer - was all she needed to know.

He sighed. "We met when I was 18. I was in Caltech doing my Ph.D. in Mathematics. She made a comment on the paper I was writing and that's how we first met." His eyes had taken on a weird look an he seemed to be a thousand miles away. "She corrected one of my equations."

"Oh no! There are two of them now." moaned Emily Prentiss, but her smile told a different story. His cheeks blushed an interesting shade of red. "Shut up Emily." he muttered playfully.

 **"There is never a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment." - Sarah Dessen, The Truth About Forever**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much to everybody for reading my story. For those of you who asked this story takes place in the seventh season. Anyways thank you for reading and please leave me reviews telling me what you think about the story.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my OC and the plot of my fanfiction.**


	4. Chapter 4

**"So, I love you because the entire universe conspired to help me find you."-Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist**

It wasn't until the next day that they saw again. She knocked on the door once, before opening the door to the room carefully, her face stuck in the most awkward grimace which she was probably trying to pass off for a smile.

"Hey !" she exclaimed her voice was several pitches too high and she looked as though she would have liked to be anywhere else but here. "Um…I…I'm just here too check up on Agent Morgan." She looked down to her charts for a second before approaching Morgan with a what looked like a weird tiny flashlight and start a series of tests on him. She looked in her element, as though everybody else had disappeared. As if there was no Spencer, no team, nobody. This was just another patient who needed her help. That, thought Spencer, was probably what made her such a good doctor. For a second he let himself forget. Forget the hurt and the pain and lost himself looking at her. She had cut her hair he noticed, it now passed her shoulders only an inch or two whereas before it had reached the end of her back. Her eyes he noted, were the exact same shade of blue as they always were. But he didn't dwell on those eyes. They were a window. To the past. Their past. A past he had tried very hard to forget.

* * *

" _Come on Spence ! Kipling is sooo not better than Hemingway. That's ridiculous !" she laughed. He couldn't help but smile too as he brought her her cup of coffee. "It's not ridiculous! My mother always read Kipling too me when I was little. It's my favorite !" It was a few days after their encounter in the library. They had met again in one of the coffee shops that were usually frequented by students were he spotted her sitting with a woman who he assumed was her friend. After a rather awkward conversation on his part he had asked (read blurted) if she would like to have coffee sometimes and (surprisingly!) she said yes and they were now sitting on a table sipping their coffee._

" _Yeah but I mean come on ! Kipling ? What did the guy ever write except for "The Jungle Book"?" she asked teasingly. She grabbed her coffee and hummed in content as it hit the back of her throat. He had never argued about literature with a girl before. In fact, if he were honest, he'd never argued about literature with anyone who wasn't a teacher and therefore obligated to respond to him. Most people, he realized, tended to zone out pretty fast when he was talking. But not her. She listened and even corrected a few of his statistics sometimes even adding a few of her own. "Um…well for starters he wrote "Kim", "Captain Courageous", "Plain Tales from the Hills"…" she interrupted him with a nudge of her foot. "Yeah I know that. I read all of those believe it or not but just…urgh! I don't know just urgh!" she grunted once more in frustrations and kicked the side of the table. "Wow! Very descriptive usage of language there my lady really how can I respond to such a well formed argument ?"_

 _He froze suddenly what were they doing? Were they…were they flirting ? What was he doing ? Here was this girl who had just agreed to sit and have coffee with him and he was hitting on her. Great. Everything was going great. "Wow! Hold your horses! I'll have you know I was captain of my debate team back in high school and we never lost once." she bragged. "You know…" Spencer started, "I've never argued about literature with someone. I mean someone who isn't a professor and isn't you know…obligated to respond." He felt his face heat up at the words. Oh God ! Could he possibly, he thought, sound anymore pathetic than he actually was ?_

" _Why not ? I mean, there are loads of book lovers you know. I bet some of them would love arguing with literature about you." she mused, her eyebrows furrowed and her mouth pinched together. "Most people tend to zone out when I start talk." he stated with a shrug of his shoulders. She leaned forward and squeezed his hand. "Well , from now on I am honored to be your official literature-arguing person."_

* * *

"Has he shown any signs of consciousness. Did his hands flinch ? Did his eyeballs roll ? Did he make sounds ?" she asked while pulling his eyelid and shining her weird flashlight in his pupil.

Her voice broke him out of his reverie. And he was able to focus just enough to hear Hotch answer her. "No we haven't noticed anything."

"Doc," started Garcia, "please, is he gonna be okay ?" Eleanor looked up from her patient to look at all of them. "Agent Morgan's surgery went as well as could be expected. We managed to take out the bullet and repair the surrounding tissue and blood vessels, we will be monitoring him very closely for brain swelling or brain bleeding. In fact I have him scheduled for an MRI scan this afternoon."

"Will Agent Morgan be able to continue his job after recovery ?" surprisingly enough, Spencer was the one who had asked that question. He hadn't wanted to speak at all, but the need to reassure himself of Morgan's condition was stronger. "The damage was rather minor and though I believe he may struggle with short term memory for a while I believe that is something that will go away with time. Oh and I should mention that when he wakes up he will probably be disoriented. He might not immediately remember you or how he got here." she informed him, eyes staring straight into his soul. For a moment nobody spoke, they simply stood there, looking into each other's eyes for what seemed like an extremely extended period of time. That is until a coughing sound made by an incredibly annoyed Rossi snapped them both out of their staring contest.

"I will send someone to take Agent Morgan for an MRI scan this afternoon. Goodbye." she started to walk out the door before something Spencer said stopped her. "Why ?" he muttered loud enough so only she could hear it, but unbeknownst to them everybody in the room was listening. She looked him straight in the eyes, her fingernails digging in her charts. "I had too. And if you'd stop thinking only about yourself maybe you'd realize that what I did was for the best." she hissed under her breath. "How can I argue with that. 'I know what I was doing and you don't.' Very convincing." She looked at him dead in the eye, a small smile curving her lips. "I told you," she responded softly, "I told you remember: I never lose a debate." She smiled softly at him, and for a moment both of them longed for something that once was, for what had been, for a time when things were simpler. She smiled at him before she turned her heels and walked away, the door closing behind her.

 **"Tis better to have to have loved and lost**

 **Than never to have loved at all"-Alfred Tennyson, In Memoriam**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story. I hope you're enjoying my story so far. So what do you think happened between Spencer and Eleanor ? Please leave reviews telling me what you think of the story so far and what you the no is going to happen.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my OC and my fanfiction plot.**


	5. Chapter 5

**"You are, and always have been, my dream." - Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook**

Garcia, Emily, Rossi and JJ were exactly three seconds away from murdering Spencer. They had tried everything. First Garcia had tried to cajole him. It didn't work. Next JJ had tried to plead with him for answers. It didn't work. Rossi had put on his scariest scowl and had demanded answers. It didn't work. They were at their wits' end. And Hotch could clearly see the mounting tension between all of them. Half of him was sorely tempted to just send some of the team members back to the hotel, but he knew it wouldn't be fair on them. To have them sitting in their hotel rooms where he knew they would not get a wink of sleep until Morgan woke up. It had been hours since his MRI scan and Dr. Black had assured them that she would tell them any news she had personally. So they had been reassigned to waiting and praying.

The creaking of the door alerted them to the entrance of someone in the room. They weren't surprised to see it was Dr. Eleanor Black. She was the only one who made the door creak when she entered. Probably because she opened the door a tiny bit first so she could check if Spencer was in the room or not before making an entrance. "I didn't expect you all to still be here." she admitted as she took in their appearance. "Anyway, um… I have Agent Morgan's MRI scans." she said. She was immediately assaulted with a barrage of questions that she didn't answer. She waited a while for them to calm down before she proceeded. "It appears, that one of the blood vessels we repaired in the area of his brain which was hit by the bullet is…clogged." she announced softly, a small apologetic smile on her lips. "So…so you're saying that Derek's artery is blocked ?" whispered Penelope, eyes wide. "How could this happen ?" asked Spencer softly "You..you said he was going to be be okay. That the wound was relatively minor." he whispered the last part so low that it was barely audible. "Spencer…" she sighed, she touched his arm hesitantly and, when he didn't flinch away, she rested one arm in the crook of his elbow and another on his cheek. "It's a known complication of the surgery. It happens." she whisper while her thumb gently stroked his cheek.

Neither one of them would have admitted it, but they had missed this: the comfort, the closeness. This had been their first physical contact in four years. His skin, she noted, was just as soft as it had always been. It still felt the same under her palms. It felt reassuring in a way, to know that this, at least, hadn't changed. That it was just as she remembered. They stayed in that embrace for a while, just a few seconds, where Spencer could pretend that he wasn't broken. That she hadn't utterly broken him. That they were together. That they were happy. She broke from his embrace first her eyes stubbornly refusing to meet his. "So what are we going to do now ?" asked Rossi who was starting to become seriously annoyed at his colleague and the doctor's silly antics. They were being ridiculous. They should either reconcile, or agree to remain as they were now and stop their silly side glances and fidgeting. "Nothing. It is a known complication. Those usually end up resolving themselves. However, if there has been no improvement in the next 12 hours we will have to take him into surgery again."

"Ella…"

"What ?"

He gestured to her face hesitantly, she raised her fingers to touch her nose. Blood coated her digit as blood kept rolling from her nostril.

"Damn it."

She groped for her pockets searching for something to wipe her nose with. Wordlessly, Spencer handed her a tissue. She whipped her nose while thanking him quietly.

"You've been working yourself too hard again haven't you ?"

"I'm okay."

"No, you're not. When's the last time you slept ?"

"Three days ago."

Spencer frowned disapprovingly.

"Don't looks at me like that Spence. A little hard work's not gonna kill me is it ?"

"It will if you keep going on like this."

She sighed exasperated. They had had this arguments many times, but they were workaholics. It was their nature to overwork themselves, to take a job and not leave it until every last detail had been done perfectly. They had an eye for detail which served them well. Spencer had joined the BAU, an elite group in the FBI; and Eleanor had become a neurosurgeon. In the end, they had both wanted to help people, he'd done it by catching serial killers, and she'd done it by healing people.

"I worry about you." he muttered

"Don't. You don't have that right anymore."

The silence that followed was so thick you could have cut it with a knife. The unsaid words they didn't have the courage to shout at one another were bursting on the tips of their tongues. It might have gone on forever if the door hadn't burst open suddenly.

" you're needed in trauma bay 1 there was a train accident we have loads of patients rolling in."

And in a flash Eleanor was gone, replaced by Dr. Black, resident neurosurgeon. She straightened her back, lifted her chin up a couple centimeters and hastily wiped away any remaining blood on her face with the tissue Spencer had given her moments before.

"Duty calls." she said, "I'll see you in twelve hours hopefully."

And just like that she was gone, racing down the corridors of the hospital. Off to save another life. He looked at the place where she was standing seconds ago until Hotch got up and softly closed the door. Garcia rounded up on him the second the door had closed. Spencer began talking before she even opened her lips.

"Garcia, please…I can't…I can't talk about it right now. I'll tell you. I promise. But not now. Please."

He had said that last word so softly that they thought for a second that they had imagined it. She nodded silently and sat at her chair again, fiddling with one of the gadgets on Morgan's bed side.

They sat quietly, and waited, and prayed.

* * *

Half the team was asleep by now. It had been eight hours since Eleanor had stormed from the room in a hurry, promising to stop by again when she would have more news of Derek. During that time they had heard the commotion through the door. Apparently the train accident had made more victims than they had anticipated. Every single member of the hospital was working themselves to death trying to save lives. Even though Spencer wouldn't voice it, they all knew he was worried about Eleanor. She had appeared almost fragile when she had stood in the room earlier wiping blood from her nose. She had been exhausted, and immediately afterwards she had been dragged away to go down and save lives. He worried about her. He'd always worried about her when they'd been together, and even now that they weren't together he still found himself worrying about her. She didn't now when to stop: she'd work until she started to see double, until her hands started shaking and not even caffeine or energy drinks managed to make the task of keeping her eyes open easier.

His attention was brought back to the room when he heard Garcia take a sharp intake of breath. He looked and saw Morgan's had jerk once, twice. Suddenly his entire body started convulsing violently. His limbs flailing and his eye balls rolled to the back of his head. None of them moved for a few seconds before JJ, who was closest to the bed, pressed on the emergency button. Less than five seconds later, a couple nurses came barging in with a doctor. The nurses started tinkering with the devices Morgan was strapped to while the doctor stood there stupidly.

"Page Dr. Black !" yelled one of the nurses while trying to stabilize Morgan's flailing limbs. The doctor immediately took out his shiny black pager and started typing on it furiously.

Thankfully, Eleanor burst through the doors seconds later. She shoved the doctor out of her way and snatched the chart from his shaking fingers. She started barking orders at the nurses, her brow furrowed, her jaw tense, all signs of fatigue had disappeared, the effects of adrenaline no doubt.

After what must have been the tensest and scariest minute of their lives, Morgan stopped bucking, his eyes rolled to the back of his head one last time before he collapsed against the bed. She immediately rushed over, checking his head, checking his heartbeat, shining her weird flashlight into his eyes, mumbling comments to herself under her breath. Finally she rose her face grim and turned towards one of the nurses.

"Book us an OR immediately." she said, clutching her stethoscope as though it were a lifeline.

A few seconds later Morgan was being wheeled out of the room. And they were left hoping and praying once more.

* * *

"He's going to be fine."

They all let out a breath of relief.

"Are you sure? That's what you said last time." asked Rossi biting down a less polite response that he was itching to say.

"I'm sorry if the complications of your colleague's brain surgery has inconvenienced you." she hissed through clenched teeth.

"What Agent Rossi meant, was to ask wether there were any risks of further complications ?" intervene Hotch. He shot Rossi a look; arguing with the doctor was no good. Rossi sighed.

"No, probably not." she answered, "Although we will make further scans just to be on the safe side."

She made her way towards Morgans' bedside where she snatched his chart that layer abandoned and started scribbling. She wrote slowly, squinting, her fingers barely gripping the pen. The door opened and a bald man stepped through the door.

"Dr. Black !" he barked. She lifted her head and managed a half smile for him.

"Chief !"

"I thought I had ordered you to go home."

"You did."

He raised his eyebrow at her questioningly and she started squirming.

"I just wanted to check on this last patient."

"Go home."

"I'm fine."

"No you're not go home."

She shook her head a couple of times.

"I'm fine." she said stifling a yawn

He sighed. "Go home Elle. Please."

She looked at him for what must have been a good thirty seconds before nodding slowly.

"Let me just wrap up this patient."

He nodded and left the room. She sighed and buried her head in her hands.

"Ella ?"

She lifted her head and looked at him through half-opened eyes. Her fingers were shaking so bad that she couldn't even grip her pen anymore. She was slightly hunched over, her neck and back tired of being up right for days on end. Her lips were crackled and he could hear the unmistakable sound of her stomach growling.

"I'm fine." she whispered

He pursued his lips in annoyance. Of course she was. She always was. "I'm fine." was her catchphrase after all. And she said it so often that it didn't have any meaning. Not anymore.

"Are you going to be able to drive home ?" he asked concerned

He seriously doubted she could muster enough energy to walk to her car let alone drive it.

"Yes."

She couldn't she would fall asleep in the parking lot or worse: on the wheel. Images of Eleanor lying in a pool of her own blood while the wreckage of her car burned nearby flashed through his mind briefly.

"I'll drive you."

Because he'd be damned if he let anything happen to her. He wouldn't be able to live with himself. He didn't care about her, he assured himself. He was just being polite, after all it was obvious she wouldn't be able to drive alone, she was half-asleep anyway. She thought about it for a minute, eyeing him suspiciously, before nodding slowly.

"Let me just finish here and get changed."

She examined Morgan one last time, but this time, her fingers shook too much for her to be able to write much in her chart. She finished in five minutes and proceeded to leave the room. She arrived ten minutes later, wearing a familiar coat. It was brown, long, and made of solid material. What was it he had said that day " _A practical coat for a practical woman."_ She had loved that coat, he had given it to her for the first birthday they had shared together as friends. He had been awkward, he'd never bought a gift for anyone before let alone a girl, but she'd loved it. Funny it was still her size, it had been ten years after all. God has it really been that long, he thought to himself. It seemed like only yesterday when she'd corrected his equations and sat at his table in the library. He shook his head. It would do no good to dwell on it. Wordlessly, he gave her his arm and she clinger onto it as he led her towards her car.

 **"We loved with a love that was more than love." - Edgar Allan Poe**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you so much for reading my story. I'm SO sorry about the long wait, but I had an awful case of writer's block. Anyway, what do you think of the story so far ? Would you like me to write a bonus scene with Eleanor and** **Spencer in the car ? Please tell me in the reviews. Thank you.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds. I only own my plot and my OC.**


	6. Bonus scene 1

"Once upon a time there was a boy who loved a girl, and her laughter was a question he wanted to spend his whole life answering." Nicole Krauss, The History of Love

His eyes darted to look at her sleeping form before snapping back quickly to focus on the road. As he had predicted, she had fallen asleep as soon as she'd sat down. Her face was pressed into the car window, her entire body huddled near the door and she was clutching her coat tightly to her person, as thought to shield herself from the bitter cold.

He knew where she lived. They had, after all dated for a long amount of time, and though they'd never shared an apartment before (their jobs requiring them to be close at hands at all times) they'd kept their things scattered evenly between their two apartments. It had soon felt like his second home. He spent every weekend and every holiday there. They had even had a joint book collection. When they had broken up, they had spent months arguing over who got to keep which book. Arguments which included, but were not limited to: essays being written at 4 a.m. to prove their devotion to the book, hours of debating the themes and symbolisms in said book, and reciting pages directly from the book by memory. What was it her friends had called it? The Custody Battle from Hell.

He stopped at a red light, his fingers drumming against the wheel. He was suffocating, the car held too many memories for him. She'd had the same car when they'd first met. They had went on countless dates in this car, their first kiss had been in this car.

He remembered it. If he closed his eyes he could even picture it. It had been during spring, the sun was shining and a light breeze was blowing gently, carrying the sweet scent of flowers that people put up in their balconies to hail the arrival of spring. He had just gotten his job at the BAU and she had insisted to see him there on his first day. She had wished him good luck and - acting on an impulse- he had bent forward and kissed her, his lips soft and gentle against her own. He had run out of the car before she had a chance to say anything and made his way hastily into the FBI building.

He snapped out of his reverie when he saw the light flash green again. He kept going forward, navigating smoothly into the streets. "You didn't have to do this you know. I would have managed on my own."

He froze and nearly lost his grip on the wheel. He waited for a few moments before answering. "Of course I had to. You're in no state to drive Ella. Stop being stubborn."

"Why are you helping me? I thought you hated me?" These last words had been spoken ironically.

I hate you! He'd shouted at her when he found out. Hands shaking, eyes rimmed red from suppressed tears, shoulders slumped in defeat.

He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling the dull ache in his chest every time he remembered.

Oh how wrong he was. He'd never hated her, he didn't think he could. Anger, sadness, bitterness, he'd felt all those things towards her yes. But not hate, never hate.

"It doesn't matter. You were going to die if you had driven yourself. I'm just making sure you don't die."

"How very kind of you."

They sat for a few more moments in tense silence. Why did it become like his? Why did the happiness, the intimacy change into this coldness, this anger? he thought.

"The next left." she said uselessly. She knew he knew the way.

He turned left smoothly, keeping his face as blank as physically possible. This is a bad idea. This is why you stayed away for four years remember? Her presence was intoxicatingly, he inhaled deeply and smelled her perfume.

"Oranges." he breathed wistfully

She looked at him startled before smiling. "You remember?"

"Of course I remember,"he whispered, sending her a small smile, "it was the only perfume you wore. And it was also your favorite fruit." he smiled. "You had a rather alarming obsession with it."

She huffed before smiling cheekily. "I did not have an obsession. I was merely very passionate about it."

"You were passionate about a lot of things." he said smiling. "Do you remember that time you forced me to eat three pounds of oranges with you in one sitting?" he recalled fondly

"I did not force you to do anything. You were fully aware of your actions and their consequences and you consented fully."

She could almost picture it if she closed her eyes. She could feel the stickiness on her palms, the juice running down her fingers, the zest trapped between her fingernails and the smooth, sweet fragrance of oranges wafting through the cool summer night's air.

She had bought way to many oranges on a whim, and he had decided to help her finish them.

They had spent the whole night, hidden away in some secret corner of the park, working tirelessly at ripping the peal from the oranges, quartering them and eating them. He had never eaten as many oranges in his entire life. They had laughed, exchanged personal stories, drunk on the sweet smell of oranges and of the sea.

After they had broken the ice, it seemed that the years had pealed away from them. Spencer found himself for a few joyous, glorious moments forgetting that they had not spoken in years. That they had hurt each other. They exchanged jokes, witty remarks, and argued about literature, psychology and politics, just like they would have done before.

Soon, too soon, he stopped the car. They had arrived. He got out of the car and helped her out of her seat, her joints stiff and weak from the cold and the lack of sleep. She stumbled on a lose stone before Spencer caught her, his hand sneaking up grabbing her waist from behind.

"Nice reflexes Agent." she mumbled sleepily

They climbed the three flights of stairs in stony silence, the warmth and intimacy left behind in the car. He supported most of her weight as she was nearly falling asleep on the stairs. He wondered briefly if that had ever happened before. He managed to wake her just enough for her to open the door.

She collapsed as soon as she had crossed the threshold and would have fallen flat on her face had Spencer not been there to catch her. He knew this happened frequently. How often had he come here only to find her sprawled on the floor, her limbs stretched awkwardly as she tried to roll herself into a more comfortable position ? So he did what he always did, he carried her to her room (their room he thought dimly) and set her gently on the bed, taking care to cover her with a thick blanket.

He watched her for a few seconds. Watched the silent rise and fall of her chest, the way she moved in her sleep trying to find a better position. They had always taken care of each other. While they had not taken great care about their own health, they seemed to have developed an obsession for the others'. Spencer made sure that she ate regularly, and slept at decent hours (at least once every two days), and Eleanor made sure to make him laugh, to comfort him after he had a nightmare and to obsess over his supposed caffeine addiction.

He didn't want to leave. It felt weird coming back here, but it was not as painful as he would have thought it. He almost felt at peace.

Home, he realized. I feel at home.

He gave a soft, sad smile to Eleanor's sleeping form before he left. His footsteps echoing across the empty corridor outside her apartment.

"For the two of us, home isn't a place. It is a person. And we are finally home." - Stephanie Perkins, Anna and the French Kiss

* * *

 **A/N: Hello everybody. It's been so long since I've updated this story, I've been so busy with school. This is a bonus scene between Eleanor and Spencer written at the request of ahowell1993. So I hope you've enjoyed it. The next chapter is in the editing phase so it shouldn't take nearly as long for it to be published. Thank you so much for reading my story. Please leave reviews to tell me what you think about the story so far.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my plot and my OC.**


	7. Chapter 6

**"One is loved because one is loved. No reason is needed for loving." - Paulo Coelho, The Alchemist**

Spencer had expected a full interrogation as soon as he came back into the hospital room. He was lucky. The second he crossed the door was the exact moment Morgan decided to wake up.

He stirred slowly, his movements sluggish. They all looked at him, hanging on to his every gesture. After all, the last time they thought he was waking up he turned out to be having a seizure.

And when he opened his eyes, Spencer felt the relief nearly crush him. Garcia started crying openly. JJ sobbed discreetly and Emily was trying (and failing) to appear composed. Hotch's shoulders were noticeably more relaxed and Rossi's eyes were glistening with unshed tears. They had worried, all of them had.

"Hey mama." Morgan rasped, his voice scratchy from lack of use. His eyes were focused on Garcia who was first in his line of sight. "Come on now don't cry, Give me that beautiful smile."

That only made Garcia cry harder although she was smiling too.

"What happened? Last thing I know we were chasing the unsub and now I'm lying in a hospital bed with bandages around my head."

So they filled him in. Emily, who had been his partner, told him everything. She told him how he'd broken down the door to Robert Woodson's apartment, how they hadn't seen him hiding behind the couch, how he'd suddenly jumped up and shot Morgan before Emily's bullet had reached him, ending his life.

"Do you remember any of this Morgan?" asked JJ who had seen Morgan's completely blank expression.

His reluctance to answer gave her all the answers they needed to know.

"Don't worry. The doctor said you might have short term memory loss and be a bit disoriented." said Rossi in an attempt to reassure him.

" _Oh no."_ Spencer thought.

Garcia's eyes suddenly lit up, mischievous.

"Morgan, did you know pretty boy here has a girlfriend?"

Spence groaned. Morgan's eyes lit up slightly behind the foggy state the sedative was putting him in.

"She hot?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

"I…We…She…She's not my girlfriend anymore!" stuttered Spencer

"Not if I have any that not to say about it." challenged Garcia

Morgan yawned audibly, his eyelids dropping. "I…I expect to hear all about it when I wake up." he breathed sleepily.

"Don't worry about that for now. Just focus on going better. We'll be there when you wake up." reassured Hotch.

With one last yawn, he let sleep claim him, his head dropping back against the pillows.

As soon as he had fallen asleep, they all started whispering amongst themselves fiercely. Hotch sighed, he was sending them all to the hotel.

* * *

Garcia was pissed off at Spencer. His big secret regarding was becoming annoying. _When did they get together? Why didn't he tell them about her? Why did they break up?_

All of her questions were answered with stony silence while he pressed his face against the car window and pretended to sleep.

Garcia had half dragged, half carried Spencer with her to her car. Once Hotch had sent them all home, except Emily who would stay to keep him company, she had nearly jumped, grabbing Spencer's wrist, and dragging him to her car for further questioning.

She was both annoyed and concerned. _What had Eleanor done that had hurt him so much he could not speak of it?_ She did not seem like the type of person to be a cheater, and she and Spencer had seemed so compatible it was hard imagining them fighting all the time.

When she'd first seen her, she had seen a young, beautiful, and intelligent doctor. And when she'd talked with her briefly while they were asking after Morgan she had thought her to be stubborn, competent and driven.

Now she was unsure. If sweet, sweet Spencer could not forgive her, then she must have done something truly horrible.

She stopped her car in the hotel's parking garage. She got out of the car and waited for Spencer before they made their way to the hotel lobby.

"Why don't you answer any of my questions?" she asked him again.

"Why would I? I'm going to have to repeat it again for the others better to just get it over with at once."

She stopped in her tracks, forcing him to face her.

"So you'll tell us?"

"I promised didn't I?"

"Can't you give me a hint at least?"

He stopped for a moment, considering her offer before answering:

"One question."

"Do you hate her?"

He seemed taken aback by her question. He opened his mouth to answer, then shut it as though rethinking his answer. She had put him on the spot she noticed.

"No," he whispered, "I don't think I ever did. I was angry at her, yes, but I never hated her and…I think I've stopped being angry at her a long time ago."

He looked at Garcia, his eyes begging her to let it drop. She consented, she walked with him toward the hotel, her curiosity burning brighter than ever.

 **" I have decided to stick to love...Hate is too great a burden to bear. " - Martin Luther King Jr., A Testament of Hope: The Essential Writings and Speeches**

* * *

 **A/N: Thank you for continuing to read my story ! So...You 're finally going to find out what Spencer and Eleanor have been fighting about next chapter. Leave me reviews telling me what you think happened and wether they'll be able to work it out.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds, I only own my OC and my plot.**

 **I hope everyone has a merry Christmas !**


	8. Chapter 7

_**"Love is a fire. But wether it is going to warm your hearth or burn down your house, you can never tell." - Joan Crawford**_

Spencer made his way through the hospital corridors until he found Morgan's room. He sighed, running his hand through his hair. A part of him had considered not going, feigning an illness or pretending he overslept. He had ultimately decided to come. A horrible decision really. One he wasn't exactly sure why he had made. He looked through the crack in the door and saw Morgan talking with Garcia and smiled. This. This is why he had come. He needed to make sure Morgan was alright after all. So he sighted, ran his hand through his hair and entered the room.

The room immediately fell silent, which Spencer could only assume meant they were talking about him. Garcia looked at Morgan with comically wide eyes and raised her eyebrows. Morgan had his trademark smile on, although it seemed a little less bright than it usually was. He seemed much more alert, although he was still lying down, and his eyes had regained some of their former liveliness.

"Hey guys. How are you feeling Morgan?" he asked. Morgan rolled his eyes, probably having been asked this question thousands of time by doctors, nurses and his anxious teammates.

"I'm fine Reid. Now why don't you come sit here. Come on." he tapped the side of his bed and Garcia scooted to make room for him. He sighed for what was probably the millionth time this morning and sat on the edge of Morgan's bed.

For a while, nobody said anything and Spencer almost wished they would just get on with it.

"Soooo...Pretty boy...A little birdie told me you got yourself a girl." said Morgan.

"Would that little birdie happen to be Garcia?" asked Spencer instead.

"I never reveal my sources." he announced in a solemn tone. "Come on now, spill. What's up between you and that hot doctor."

"He won't tell us. And they keep acting like love sick puppies around each other. It's disgusting." answered Rossi, although he was smiling, and Spencer didn't think that smile held anything good for him. It was the sort of smile he gave unsubs they were about to interrogate.

He blushed to the roots of his hair.

"I...We don't...I didn't..." he stammered awkwardly. This was already going about as well as Spencer had imagined it would.

"Come one Spence. Enough with all the drama. Just tell us already. Emily and I are dying to know." pleaded JJ with her best puppy eyes.

"Although you don't have to tell us anything if it makes you feel uncomfortable, and we'll all respect your privacy. Won't we?" said Hotch, his eyes fixating at Garcia who had sat up straight, pointed at herself, and, with comically wide eyes, mouthed 'Who me?'

"No, it's okay." he braced himself. "Ask away." he cringed almost visibly as he said those words.

Almost immediately something had changed in the room. Questions burst out of everybody's mouth (even Hotch's) at the same time. He simply stared at them wide eyed, his brain not registering any of the questions. He looked like a lost fawn, thought Emily, and the thought made her smile.

"Ok guys. One at a time here. Let's not overwhelm our kind, generous, doctoral friend who is about to supply us with information." added Garcia, her hand landing on Spencer's shoulder and squeezing almost painfully. She was trying to be supportive in her own way, and Spencer was grateful.

"How did you meet?" asked Morgan who had sat up a little straighter.

"She came to visit one of her friends who was studying at CalTech. We met in the library and she corrected one of my equations." started recounting Spencer. Almost immediately, Morgan cut him off.

"Hold up, hold up. Are you telling me this chick could actually understand what you were writing?" inquired an incredulous Morgan.

"Yeah. Didn't you hear what I was saying?"

Morgan raised an eyebrow.

"Okay so this super smart gorgeous girl walks up to you and corrects your equations. What did you do?" questioned Garcia eagerly.

"Well, at the beginning, nothing."

He heard a collective groan out of everybody's mouth.

"Come on Reid. Please tell me that's not all." pleaded Morgan

"Well the was next day, I bumped into her and managed to convince her to go on a date with me."

Garcia applauded energetically and squealed before being silenced by Morgan and Rossi.

"So where do you take her? Movies? Restaurant?" asked Rossi

"Actually, I took her out for coffee. We ended up arguing for three hours about wether Hemingway or Kipling was better."

JJ and Garcia awed audibly before being shushed by Hotch who was listening attentively.

" We exchanged numbers, and the next day, we had a two hour long phone conversation about Freud's psychoanalysis theories. Eventually, she had to go back to her own college, but we stayed in touch."

The team all shuffled closer. No one was talking, or asking question. Their sole focus was the man sitting in front of them. His words weaved an image in their minds. They almost picture small, clumsy, nerdy Reid arguing with smart, pretty while drinking coffee.

"We stayed friends for a little more than two years. She was doing her third year of med school at Harvard when I got the job at the FBI. She insisted on accompanying me, and that's when we first kissed."

* * *

 _"Come on Spencer! Relax, it's going to be okay you got this."_

 _Spencer didn't answer, instead choosing to look out of the window at the passing cars. After a while, he replied:_

 _"You shouldn't have come. I'm making you miss classes. Important classes." he mumbled, stubbornly looking away. She had come during the weekend to help him set up his new apartment and they had ended the night in a tangled mess of limbs on his lumpy couch after a Star Trek marathon._

 _"You and I both know I don't actually need to attend."_

 _And it was true, Eleanor was way ahead of her class and spent most lectures doing advanced readings or pestering the professors with questions that were unrelated to the topic they were presenting. She probably could have finished a few doctoral programs like Spencer who had already finished a PhD in Engineering and one in Mathematics and was just starting another one in Chemistry._

 _"Stop being so grouchy ." she teased with a smirk on her lips, "Now I can say that I'm friends with the youngest FBI agent to ever have been appointed in the BAU."_

 _She noted his frown and stopped the car a few blocks before the FBI building. She grasped his hand and turned her head to look at him._

 _"Why aren't you more excited? This is what you've always dreamed of." she told him with a smile._

 _He cast his eyes down. How could he explain to Eleanor that he was terrified that his other teammates wouldn't like him. That they would only see him as a kid. That they would exclude him, like everybody always had. That they would think he was some sort of freak. Or worse. What if_

 _was bad at his job? What if it led to someone dying? Would he be able to live with himself if somebody died because of him? She seemed to understand, because something in her eyes softened and she raised her other hand to stroke the side of his face._

 _"Spence..." she whispered, "Listen to me. It's going to go great. You'll see. Your teammates will like you. You'll be good at your job and everything will be fine. I promise."_

 _"How do you know?" he whispered_

 _"Because I know you. And I know that you're the kindest, smartest person I know and that you'll be brilliant. I have faith in you."_

 _If asked later, Spencer would say it was those last words "I have faith in you" that prompted him to do what he did next. He leaned down and very quickly, he pressed his lips to hers. It was sweet, gentle and over too quickly. Because as soon as her lips had touched his, his brain seemed to go in overdrive. What was he doing? His brain screamed at him. This was a bad, bad idea. Almost as soon as it had started, the kiss ended, and Spencer bolted from the car into the FBI building so fast he might have been able to pass the FBI mandated fitness test this time._

 _Eleanor had sat in the car for what could have been hours, her hand pressed against her mouth, her heart hammering so hard in her chest that she worried she might have a heart condition because surely a kiss couldn't make her heart beat that fast could it? She stayed there for seconds or for hours , she could not tell, before putting her hands to her lips and let out what was most definitely not a squeal. Because Eleanor Black most certainly did not squeal. She sighed and turned around making her way to his new apartment. He had given her a set of keys, and she needed to take a few of her things. Besides, she was going to surprise him._

* * *

"Why didn't you tell any of us that you were dating somebody? And to think that all this time we've been trying to set you up on dates when you had this gorgeous girlfriend waiting for you at home." said Garcia in mock anger, her hands on her hips.

"Well technically we haven't been dating in four years."

"But still! You should've told us. I am the Oracle of all things knowable and unknowable. How can I assume that title if I don't these things!"

"It's just...we already spend nearly all of our waking moments together. We know everything about each other, there is no privacy. And I suppose that, just for once, I wanted to have something that was just for me."

They all stayed silent for a few moments absorbing what he was saying. They could all somewhat relate to what he was saying. They did know nearly everything about each other, and they could understand the urge to have a few secrets.

"Soooo... what did she say about the whole Lila Archer fiasco?" asked Morgan smirking. He had laid back down on the pillows and seemed to be getting drowsier.

Spencer groaned at the reminder and they all chuckled.

"I explained it to her. She understood." he insisted.

Morgan hummed softly as though in agreement although he still had his trademark smirk on his face.

"So what did happen?" asked Rossi. He was definitely intrigued now. The more Spencer talked, the more he realized how well suited he and that blonde doctor were for each other. She was probably the only human alive who's brain could go as fast as Reid's. And for the next half hour Reid delighted them with tales of the dates they had, the numerous topics they'd discussed, the time they ate way too many oranges.

He stared at Rossi for awhile.

"I suppose it was my fault really. It all started going downwards after...after..."

"The Tobias Hankel thing?" asked Hotch. Spencer nodded and the whole team fell silent. Rossi frowned. He hadn't been on the team when it had happened but he had heard the others mention it vaguely, warily, and never in front of Spencer. As far as he understood, Reid had gotten kidnapped by an unsub, had been injected with some sort of drug, and had struggled with addiction afterwards.

"She figured it out really quickly to. She was a med student so I suppose it's not that weird that she would be the first to notice that her boyfriend was a drug addict."

He looked up at the rest of the team and sighed. This was the hard part, the part he had desperately tried putting off by telling them every single story he could remember about his time with Eleanor.

"She...she didn't leave. I thought for sure she would. I mean...who wants to be in a relationship with a drug addict? But she stayed. She helped me get clean, supported me, encouraged me to go to meetings."

At that Garcia let out a sight of relief. She had been so worried that would have rejected Reid after she found out he was struggling with an addiction. That she would have somehow blamed him for it and walked away, leaving him all alone when he desperately needed someone. But she had stayed, and the doctor rose severely in Garcia's esteem.

"It was a few months later, I still wasn't clean but I was doing much better than before. She was about to start a surgical internship in D.C. which was noticeably closer to where I lived than Cambridge, Massachusetts. Everything seemed great. We had been dating for years and I thought...I asked her to marry me."

 _ **"You are my best friend as well as my lover, and I do not know which side of you I enjoyed the most. I treasured each side, just as I have treasured our life together." - Nicholas Sparks, The Notebook**_

* * *

 **A/N: Hello again! I'm sorry I didn't update sooner, but since this is a pretty important chapter I wanted to make sure I got it write. I hope you enjoyed it and thanks for sticking with my** **story for so long.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminals Mind, I only own my OC and my plot.**

 **Please review so I can know what you think of the story so far and once again thank you for reading my story!**


	9. Chapter 8

"Love is so short, forgetting is so long." - Pablo Neruda, Love

Nobody spoke a single word. They didn't need to.

They could all imagine the scene relatively well. Reid, on his knees, asking the girl he loved to marry him, and receiving a cold, clinical answer in response. And if they couldn't, he gave them a short recap of her answer. She was too busy right now, she was just getting started at this surgical internship, she didn't have the time, she still had to repay her student loans and her car, Spencer still wasn't clean, she didn't want children, it wasn't the right time...

All legitimate answers, but it was the cold, unfeeling, tone she had said it with, almost professional, that had made him feel so humiliated. He had been used to being spoken to in an almost patronizing tone when he was in university. And even now that he was technically an adult, being the youngest member of the team, he had been babied on an almost daily basis. He was used to it. He simply never expected it to come from the mouth of the woman he loved. And suddenly he saw himself as what he really was. A burden. He was slowing her down. He was slowing everybody down. She kept staying next to him and she was missing out. The last part hadn't been said out loud, although the rest of the team had no problems reading between the lines. They were profilers after all.

In the end, they had agreed on a mutual breakup. After the botched proposal, things had been getting awkward and tense. He had had a short relapse, and her new job was stressing her out too much. She couldn't keep juggling everything, he could see it was destroying her. So they decided to split.

"Love is supposed to be easy Spencer. There's nothing easy about this."

"Oh Spencer." said JJ, her eyes watery.

He shrugged dismissively.

"It's okay. It doesn't matter anymore."

"Losing the person you love is always hard." whispered Hotch, staring at him. Doubtless he was thinking of Hayley. Even after she had left him the man had still carried a torch for her.

Nobody said anything for a while, and Spencer could tell that he had ruined everything. He hadn't wanted to tell them about it, but they had insisted. And besides, he didn't trust them not to hound Eleanor down until she had given them the "juicy details". He should try to cheer them up, he thought. Except he wasn't very good at that. He remembered the face Rossi had given him after he had made that joke in front of the new recruits. Being funny wasn't exactly his forte, but he thought he had something that would do the trick.

"Hey guys. Did I ever tell you about the big fight we had after?"

In retrospect, that probably wasn't the best way to start his story, he realized the second the words had let his mouth. They all shook their heads. Morgan laid down on the bed, his eyes were getting droopy, probably because he needed sleep but was instead stubbornly staying awake.

"So, we had been together for years right? And since we basically had our things scattered between my place and hers, we bought books together. So after we broke up, we had this huge fight about who would get to keep which book."

They all groaned, and Morgan let out a little chuckle.

"Don't tell me you had a lover's spat about books! Come on Reid, really? A custody battle over who gets to keep which book? What are you guys aliens?"

"Actually according to NASA there is a very high probability that..."

"Yes Reid. So tell us, did you really fight over the books?" asked Emily, biting her lips to contain a laugh.

* * *

"There's no way you're keeping "The old man and the sea"." said Eleanor flat-out.

"Well, you're keeping "The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy". So I think it's only fair that I get this one."

"You're already keeping "2001: A Space Odyssey"! Besides you don't even like Hemingway. Kipling is sooo much better remember." she argued, hands clasped firmly over the book cover.

"Yes, and then I read it and I loved it."

"You're not getting "The old man and the sea"." She hugged book to her chest, protectively, as you would with a newborn baby.

"Fine." he compromised, "I'll trade for "Kafka on the shore". You know, the one by Haruki..."

"Murakami. Yeah I know the one." she bit her lip pensively, as though in extreme contemplation. "Alright here's what we're going to do. We'll check the ledger. If you win, I'll trade you for "Kafka on the shore". However, if I win, I get to keep the book. Deal?

He tilted his head to the side.

"Deal."

The ledger was something they had come up with during their first year of dating. Some well-meaning friend of hers had asked them who read more and it had triggered an argument that had lasted more than a week. In the end, they decided to keep track of which books they read, and how many times and compared their totals every year. It was like their own special little holiday. Spencer had actually beaten her the first year, but only by a margin of three books. The next year, Eleanor had won with a margin of seven books. Spencer hadn't been able to read as much since this was the final year for his thesis.

She dug through her bag, and got out her little black notebook before leafing through it.

"During the last four years. I read "The old man and the sea"... seven times. You?"

Spencer was going through through his own notebook before stopping and grimacing.

"I only read it four times. Alright you win."

She took a little victory lap around her pile of books to which she had added "The old man and the sea".

* * *

"You guys are such nerds!" managed to choke out Rossi while laughing.

They all laughed and Spencer supposed he could see the fun side in all of this. It was rather funny now that he was looking back.

"So you didn't get "The old man and the sea"?"

"No, I didn't." he said, a small smile on his lips, "But I did get "I, Robot" so I wasn't too disappointed."

He hadn't even wanted "The old man and the sea" that much. Sure he liked the book, but Eleanor had definitely enjoyed it more. Besides, she was the one that had initiated him to the book. But in truth, reading the book always reminded him of her. He remembered certain passages she had read out loud to him and fun, witty commentary she had made. But in the end, he probably would have given her the book anyways.

"What's it about anyways?" asked Garcia who had made a long effort to be silent, but simply couldn't resist the temptation.

" Which one?"

"The one you were fighting about?"

"Well, "The old man and the sea" was written by Hemingway in 1952, and it's the story of a fisherman who..."

And he proceeded to give them a detailed account of what the book was about, along with little tidbits he found interesting. By the end of his rant, Morgan had fallen asleep and Rossi was on his way to join him.

A nurse knocked softly on the door before going in.

"Excuse me agents, but I'm going to have to ask you to leave. Visiting hours are over."

"Can one of us stay with him?" asked Emily

"Yes, but only one person. will drop by to check on him soon."

She turned around and left, closing the door softly behind her.

It was an almost unspoken agreement that Garcia would be the one to stay. She and Morgan were the closest, and besides, Morgan had sat at her hospital bedside too. She would never leave him alone, especially since she'd (reluctantly) agreed to go back to her hotel room last night.

They all left the room. Making her promise to call them if something happened, if he woke up and, obviously, if Black dropped by.

Spencer was the last to leave, probably because he dreaded running into Eleanor again by accident.

Finally he left, and Garcia and Morgan were all alone.

"This is a good sign, having a broken heart. It means we have tried for something." - Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat, Pray, Love

* * *

 **A/N: I've finally updated this chapter! I've been editing it for at least a month. Thank you all for sticking around and still reading my story. It means a lot to me that you are all taking time out of your day to read my fic. PLease leave reviews and tell me what you think of my story so far.**

 **DISCLAIMER: I do not own Criminal Minds. I only own my plot and my OC.**


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